


Curiosity is a Funny Thing, Isn't it?

by Void_Ink_Studios



Category: Undertale (Video Game)
Genre: Art, Depictions of Death, Depictions of Decay, Digital Art, Fanart, Fluff and Angst, How Do I Tag, Magic, Possible Hurt/Comfort, Possible violence, Pre-War, Rating May Change, Relationships May Change, Tags May Change, The Surface, Undertale Monsters on the Surface, Warnings May Change, parental relationship, pre-game
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-01-03
Updated: 2020-11-26
Packaged: 2020-12-20 16:40:51
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 11
Words: 16,852
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21059837
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Void_Ink_Studios/pseuds/Void_Ink_Studios
Summary: Such an odd emotion, curiosity.  Sometimes it leads to great discoveries.  And other times, it has lead to utter disaster.What about in this case?  As this road diverges, where shall this force lead us?Kane will have to find out, and quickly, as one of her mindless servants pulls her down that very road.  As it begins to learn to think and feel on its own, new bonds will form, while others unravel right before its eyes.  And, with the growing tensions between monster and human kind, what will it do to disrupt the delicate peace when a puppet gains a soul?Written by: Void_Ink_StudiosBeta-Read by: An anti-social cat.Art by: Void_Ink_Studios, come find me on Deviant Art under the same name.





	1. Cover Page

**Author's Note:**

> This is a remake of an old fic I had started and abandoned about 3 years ago. I hope to all new comers that you enjoy this story, and to all who had read the original, I hope you enjoy the changes and continuations. Thank you all, and I truly hope you'll have fun reading this as I did writing it.

It's a funny thing, curiosity… What shall it bring to those who choose to follow?


	2. The Witch of Bones

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Who is this Kane the village speaks of...? Who is this mysterious Witch of Bones...? And more importantly, what does she want...?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Content warnings for this chapter:  
None, I'm pretty sure. Let me know if I ever need to add anything to these in the comments. There will be warnings at the beginning of every chapter for things some readers might find distressing.

**_The Witch of Bones_**  
**__ **

It is known that all should fear the one called Kane. It was a fact of life. The sky is blue, monsters turn to dust, and all should fear the enchantress Kane. They should fear her confident saunter, her long black hair flowing down her back like a waterfall, her dark skin that seemed to shine like gold in the sun… Her piercing eyes would become the fodder of myth and nightmare alike.

She went by many names. She was only Kane in her miniscule inner circle. To all official channels, she was Lady Kane Gaster, but those who knew that are dead or no longer have a tongue to speak with, or hands to write with. No, to the everyday man and monster, she was Kane, the Witch of Bones. Or, to the more extremist minds who seemed to worship the ground she walked on, the Empress of the Dead. She happened to like the grandiose ring of that one, although she could do without the groveling of know nothing mage wannabes.

The village spoke about her in hushed whispers and murmured rumors, all falling silent when her shadow seemed to be lurking. Kane could hardly blame them, there was much to whisper about. Although, in her opinion, some of it was almost too over the top. Like the whispers about her magic only being wielded by the Devil himself. What a story that must be to the local children gathered by the campfire.  


The whispers about her dead-eyed, mindless army however… there’s a bit more truth to that. It is true, she did wield an army at her beckon call. That would be her horde of undead. Her staff, her soldiers, her scribes and messengers, the whole lot of them.

They move with mechanical intent, no words spoken to anyone but their master, their bodies creaking and clattering with their every shift in pose. They say if you look one in the eye, it might look like there’s nothing looking back at you. And that might be true to an extent, the eyes are long gone, but there’s something else there. No, when you look one of her minions in the eye, you see the cold and distant gaze of the reaper staring straight back at you, then through you.  


She and her army were untouchable. She and her army could stand up and wipe out towns with a snap of her fingers. No one’s sure why she hadn’t done so already, she could so very easily.

Yes, she was feared by both monster and human with her red soul magic, and seemingly unquestioned command of Death itself. She was the heartless witch of Ebott swamp, and if you wanted to keep your eyes and stay out of her horde, you had best stayed out of that marshland, and away from the estate you’d find within.

So why is it then, that there’s a being who can call her mother?

It all started because one of them was curious. _Curious_ of all things. It couldn’t have even been a more understandable emotion like a fear of its master, or anger at the violation of being revived, or sorrow of never seeing forgotten family ever again.  
__

No, this one was **curious**.

It wasn’t even anything special in terms of its role. It was just supposed to be another servant among her many others that clean her estate, brings her food and drink, and answers the door to the few visitors foolish enough to come. Nothing that would warrant the development of something like curiosity.

All it was meant to do was take orders, execute said orders, and wait for more. That should be simple enough. But apparently not.

Granted, it’s never questioned her orders. It never directly disobeyed, and certainly never spoke out against her. It would never have lasted that long if it did.

But it did give its master a look. It was subtle, easy to miss for those not paying attention. But Kane wasn’t one to not pay attention. She saw it. A look as she was preparing spells and potions of a dubious nature. A look every time she went grave digging for new servants or soldiers. A look every time she spoke with a follower that couldn’t understand why she wouldn’t take them under her wing.

It was a skeleton. It was never meant to have a soul, much less emotions. And yet this one was curious.

Kane was almost impressed. She couldn’t say she had grown attached, that’d be ridiculous. A skeleton is barely above an inanimate object. It’d be like becoming attached to a cabinet.

No, attached isn’t the right word. Intrigued would be better.

It had its own little quirks and imperfections. It had its own little odd manner of speaking, as if English was a foreign tongue to its own. It had its own way of walking, not with the mechanical poise its supposed to, but a small shuffle of one foot gliding past the other, and a slight bounce to its shoulders. Its own... “personality”, as one would say.

But it shouldn’t have a “personality”, if one could call it that. It shouldn’t have thoughts or feelings or imperfections, even if at best they’re simplistic and at worst nonsensical for its purpose.

The logical thing to do was to destroy it and make another. After all, she’s done the same for less.

But she couldn’t. She just… couldn’t.

Maybe it was the fact that it was a child. Well, not really a child anymore, but child shaped and sized.

Maybe it was just Kane being foolish, something that might come back to destroy her someday. But she couldn’t find the will in her to dispose of it. The way it looked up at her and stumbled around sometimes was… almost endearing. If for any other reason than to see what it’d do next, she’d keep this odd little skeleton around.

She tried to convince herself it was for science, to see other ways her mistake would manifest in this small being. It was a valiant effort, but even she could not fool herself. She knew what she was feeling, and she tried her best to shove it down into the depths.

But she even named it. WingDings. She’s not sure why, but it seemed to suit it. Maybe due to its odd way of speaking. But, regardless, at least it’s a quick learner. It wasn’t long before it recognized that “WingDings” was referring to it, and that its master needed its service.

“WingDings, come here please.” It would approach obediently, keeping his head bowed.

“WingDings, fetch me my spell book.” It would carry out its task, but not before getting caught by Kane on some occasions examining the cover or first few pages.

That ever so odd curiosity.

“My Empress, thank you for seeing me,” the peasant below her warbled out. “You are truly more radiant than the legends say, I can feel your magic encircle me, it’s remarkable, I must say-”

“Yes, yes, what is it you want? I’m a busy woman, I haven’t got all day to listen to you sing me praises.”

“Yes, of course my Empress. I have come seeking your mentorship, and it would be my most humble honor to enthrall myself if your teachings.”

Kane rolled her eyes, already tired of this conversation.

“WingDings, fetch me my spell book.”

“My mistress, I shall” the skeleton called, Kane listening for its footsteps echoing down the hallway to her library. She let a small smile grace her lips.

“That one seems strange” the peasant remarked. Kane had already almost forgotten his presence. Truly an unremarkable thing.

“Yes, it’s a curious thing, that one...” She tapped her finger against her cheek, chewing her bottom lip in thought.

“My Empress, if I may be so bold,” the peasant started, a new burst of confidence crossing his face, “if you would allow me, I could prove my loyalty and devotion to you and dispose of it. It would be my honor to serve you.”

That made Kane’s grin fall into a frown. She stared hard into this little mouse of a man, the pitiful desperation in his eyes seeping into the rest of his being like an unwanted ivy. “That won’t be necessary, I assure you.” Her voice was hard and icy.

“It’s dangerous to have an intelligent slave, my Empress.”

Kane was sufficiently displeased with this man’s presence now. Her frown sunk down into a scowl. “I do not need your assistance.”

The peasant stiffened as her voice commanded his silence. “Y-Yes, of course, f-f-forgive my insolence, my Empress.” He swallowed thickly, ringing his hands together nervously. The silence hung heavy in the room, just long enough for Kane to pick up on the small clattering of bone meeting stone in a stride she’d learned to recognize.

WingDings shuffled back to its master’s side, handing her the special book she requested. “Thank you WingDings.”

“Welcome you are, my Mistress.” It folded its hands in front of itself, going still by its master’s side. Kane patted the skeleton’s skull, like one would a puppy for completing a trick. Kane wouldn’t admit to seeing it, but she felt its posture straighten and it’s chest puff out as she touched it.

She flipped through the pages, scanning the old writings and her own notes for something of interest. She was still stuck on what to do with this peasant at her feet. She knew she wasn’t going to have him for an apprentice. No, his groveling made that obvious the second he waltzed through her door. But still, she was willing to give him a fair shake. If for no other reason than investigating a possible threat.

She looked up from her pages when she noticed the peasant moving. She made no acknowledgement that he’d been noticed, instead watching what he thought he was doing.

He didn’t stop moving until he was much too close to WingDings for either of their comfort. It appeared to have drawn back as the man approached it, shrinking under the clinical, examining gaze. It squirmed subtly, shoulders tensing against its head, its mouth twisting into an uncomfortable, uneasy frown.

Any other skeleton wouldn’t even acknowledge the peasant’s existence unless they were touched. They had orders for what to do if they were touched. They were almost never touched anymore.

But WingDings, like in most other ways, worked a bit differently. The skeleton seemed genuinely distressed.

“I must ask you to leave my skeletons alone, peasant.”

She wasn’t sure why she said that. She could’ve just stayed silent and let this little man examine all he wanted. But… something didn’t feel right watching the skeleton shift and squirm at the breach of personal space.

“M-M-My apologizes, my Empress...” He backed up and folded his hands in front of his chest. The skeleton’s shoulders dropped, its face relaxing ever so slightly.

“S-So, wh-what of m-m-my offer, my Empress?”

“I’m going to make this simple for you. I do not want apprentices. Your pitiful mewling the second you walked through my door was all the proof I needed that you are a spineless worm only good for crawling in the mud. You do not have what it takes to learn my magic, and you never will. Get out of my sight.”

The peasant gulped, his face falling, looking so utterly crushed. Was it cruel to admit that Kane got a small bit of satisfaction watching that dream of his die so completely? Perhaps. But it’s not like she particularly cared.

“M-M-My Empress, I-I beg of y-you, let me p-p-prove m-my worth-”

“I’m sorry, but was I not clear, or did I not say to leave my home at once?” She turned to the skeleton at her side. “WingDings, did I or did I not say something to that effect?”

“So said, my Mistress did.”

The peasant flinched, bowing slightly, before turning on his heel and shuffling out the door. Ah, quiet at last. Privacy at last.

She returned her eyes downward to the pages of the book before suddenly slamming it closed. She caught the movement of the skeleton out of the corner of her eye. It jumped, its eyes quickly shifting down to the floor, like it’d been caught cheating in school.

There was that curiosity again.

“Is there something you want to say, small one?”

WingDings perked up to look at her, but didn’t respond. It chewed on the collar of its dark gray sweater, eyes looking anywhere except at its master. “Nothing, Mistress.”

Kane raised an eyebrow at that, tapping her finger on the cover.

“WingDings, bring that back to the library, please”

“My Mistress, I shall.”

It took the book from her extended hands, shuffling off to return it to its proper place.

Meanwhile, Kane sat in her seat, chewing her lower lip again in deep thought. _Well, that’s something new..._ she thought to herself.  
__

_WingDings knows how to lie._

How curious indeed.

*************************************************************************

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Comments are my life blood, so feel free to tell me your thoughts!


	3. A Reflection of Possible Past Mistakes

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A moment of reflection in where Kane might have made her first of many mistakes involving a certain skeleton.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Content warning for this chapter:  
Talks of decay and rot, very brief possible torture, implied murder

** _A Reflection of Possible Past Mistakes_ **

Maybe it was a terrible idea to use the corpse of a child for a horde member.

Scratch that, it was a terrible idea to use the corpse of a child for a horde member. Such small and fragile bones… She really should’ve known better.

So why did she use the corpse of a child for a horde member? Mostly laziness on Kane’s part.

She had found the body in the old well, already deep in decomposition. It might as well have been delivered to her doorstep such little work needed to be done. It was too easy to pass up, and she really didn’t feel like going out to the graveyard that night just to replace a servant. So, into the bag it went as she had one of her minions drag it back to the estate while she went to the market.

If Kane had to guess, she’d reckon the kid was probably 12, maybe 13, but she was never good with children. Until they turned 16, they might as well all be newborns for all she knew.

The large, ugly stab wound going from the boy’s collar bones down his chest was slightly concerning. As were the suspicious bruises around his neck, which were distinctly rope shaped. Or at least, they should’ve been. She’d investigate that later.  
She had her minion haul the body onto the altar where she could examine it further. Maggots festered in the body’s head and wounds. What remained of his scalp revealed clumps of muck and dirt covering wheat-blond hair that curled in a gentle manner. His eyes were already gone, as were large chunks of flesh that seemed to have slogged off in the water. She didn’t even want to acknowledge the smell.

Everything was going perfectly normal so far… what remained was stripped away, until the bones were clean and nearly white. She left it to dry in the sun, the bones bleaching a little until they shimmered like fine ivory.

The wound had gone deeper than originally thought, she discovered. She could see a shallow line crossing the body’s sternum and ribs, not enough to break anything, but still noticeable. _Shouldn’t be a problem,_ she thought idley to herself.

Ignoring this was probably her second big mistake.

She lightly scraped her special magical runes onto the sternum with a small piece of charcoal. She moved with a precision born only out of her many, many years of practice and repetition. She still remembered her first few attempts, how they crumpled to dust during the revival, or how some couldn’t walk or speak, or how some just fell apart with a pitiful clatter at her feet.

But those were early failures.

Her modern skeletons were perfect in nearly every way. If only she could find a way to give a soldier magic. Then…

Well, the capital isn’t that far a journey from her estate, after all.

She meticulously carved the symbols into the skeleton’s bones, brushing away the fine powder as she went, carefully placing each groove with needle thin accuracy. She allowed herself to indulge in a bit of pride with how expertly crafted each was.

Now was the both the hardest and easiest part.

Kane summoned her magic, feeling it crackle around her arms like lightning, tingling in her fingertips as she clasped them together and pressed down on the skeleton’s sternum. Red magic pulsed through the bones, scalding heat seeping through its frame. She quickly pulled her hands back, watching the magic take hold.

It was a violent thing to watch, and nothing pleasant to listen to. Bones snapped and popped and fused as the magic forced its vessel to conform to its will. Some skeletons had ribs fuse together. Some had their pelvis and spine merge. The one thing that always happened was that the upper and lower jaws fused, a small layer of bone enclosing their head, giving them the appearance of having cheeks. They never had lips, but they could smile or frown as if suddenly granted the ability.

When Kane brought skeletons to life, after it stopped screaming and thrashing and the magic properly took hold, there were a few things she’d grown to expect. It should just stand up, hands folded in front of it, waiting for its first few orders.

This was not what ended up happening.

No, when this one woke up, it didn’t seem to know what to do with itself. It blinked several times, giving its head a few experimental turns, its fingers and toes curling and uncurling, like it was testing its own movement. It sat up slowly, seemingly still in “pain” from the ordeal of being revived. That’s not supposed to be happening- Skeletons have no concept of pain. Yet here it was, curling its back and letting everything settle into place, wincing at major movements.

“Stand up. Now.”

It turned to her, finally acknowledging and recognizing its master. It slowly turned its body, letting its feet be planted firmly on the floor before trying to push its own weight up.

Its knees buckled, its spine and rib cage curling up on itself before it caught itself from falling by grabbing the edge of the table. It pushed itself back up, but refused to let go of the altar, its legs trembling.

The sorceress watched for several minutes as this small skeleton tried and failed to stand up properly, much less try and walk around.

“I don’t understand... what went wrong?” she murmured to herself. The body she retrieved had no obvious bone deformities that would’ve prevented it from moving properly, so why is this one struggling so much?

She’s done this hundreds of times before. She’s perfected this technique.

So what was different?

Kane scooped up the fumbling skeleton, in a way that was too much like cradling a child for her comfort, and laid it back down on the altar. She closely inspected the symbols, looking for any possible error she might have overlooked.

And that’s when she finally spotted it.

A spiderweb of hairline fractures, going right through its ribs and sternum, right through all of her hard work. There was the probable culprit. They all spread out from the scrape from its wound, a combination of her carving and its thrashing at being revived most likely having aggravated it, causing stress and tension fractures from an already weakened piece of bone.

Well curse it all, then.

Kane sighed, frustrated both with herself and this pitiful excuse of a skeleton. It was flawed. Obviously so.

She should’ve probably just destroyed it before it caused trouble or became a problem. She couldn’t use an uncoordinated skeleton in a battle, or trust a clumsy one with her delicate artifacts.

“My Mistress” a small voice whispered, interrupting her thoughts. Kane turned to look at her flawed creation. It was still using the table as support but was standing a little more confidently now. “Serve you, may I?”

Kane raised an eyebrow at that. _Looks like its speech is warped as well,_ she sighed internally.

At least it’s clear its obedience hadn’t been disrupted. Its knees were still shaking, but it was obvious it at least still wanted to serve.

Wanted? No, “want” isn’t the right word. It had no choices or free will. It shouldn’t even understand the concept of thoughts beyond a master’s orders. It doesn’t “want” anything. It must obey the desires of its master. It must obey the desires of Kane.

After she gave it another look up and down, she decided that if it showed improvement in coordination, it could stay.

That was probably her third mistake.

She fetched some simple clothing and handed them to it. They weren’t anything too fancy, none of her skeletons needed anything fancy. Just a simple dark gray sweater and long black pants. There was hardly even a need for them to wear clothes at all, but she had found a bit of comfort in looking at her skeletons dressed properly.

Except this one didn’t even seem to know what to do with them, staring at the sweater with blank confusion. Sighing, she helped it get dressed, almost smiling as she watched its head sink into the soft fabric of the sweater.  
Then it proceeded to chew on the sleeve.

“Don’t do that” Kane ordered. The skeleton startled for a second before it stopped immediately.

“My mistress, not shall I.”

Kane looked it up and down until she met its eyes. They weren’t dead or hollow like the others. Its gaze wasn’t empty and cold like the others. They weren’t glazed over in a trance like state. Instead, they had an energy behind them. An expressiveness. Life. They were bright and alive and filled with almost… wonder.

Kane shook it off. It was nothing but a quirk from the crack. They would fade away in time, and it’d fall into line.

“Follow me” she hissed, beckoning it closer as she gave it a quick tour of her estate.

******

_Click, click click._

_Click, click click._

_Click, click click._

The quirks didn’t fade.

In fact, most of them got worse.

They got more plentiful and frequent the longer it was allowed to exist. It still stumbled, although now it’s less to do with unstable balance and more to do with the odd way it walks, shuffling its feet so they barely leave the floor as they glide past each other. It's now slouching as it stood in place, shifting and rolling its shoulders ever so slightly. It still chewed on his sleeves until the ends became frayed with holes, and it was able to pull threads with its teeth. That only made him move on to chewing the collar whenever it was bored or nervous.

_Click, click click._

_Click, click click._

_Click, click click._

This was a new habit it’s picked up on. It’s started tapping its phalanges together, making a very soft clicking noise whenever it got too quiet.

It rubbed its feet together when he was sitting. It fidgeted whenever someone it didn’t recognize came to close, made little vocalizations as it was completing tasks, responded to praise or frustration, then the _curiosity_ developed.

At least it follows orders. It followed them to the letter, and to the best of its ability. That’s all Kane needed, really. She could handle some tapping or a ‘nervous’ skeleton, but she wouldn’t handle a disobedient or incompetent one.

Kane started catching glances from it as it seemed to admire her from afar. It always quickly returned its attention to something else in the room or the task at hand, but she still saw its brief moments where it looked at Kane like she was the wisest person in the world.

She was not wise, she knew she was not wise. At best, she’s a strategist. But she’s not one equipped to be the bringer of any sort of advice or wisdom.

And yet, it still looked up to her. Looked to her for guidance when greeted with a new task. Looked up to her like… like a… child.

Kane tried to shake these thoughts away, she really did. But it became harder and harder. The more quirks it cultivated, the more difficult it was to ignore it. It was getting to a point that visitors started noticing, her followers giving it confused looks and side glances as it carried out its tasks.

She needed to get rid of it. It was becoming more trouble than it was worth if people started seeing it as a weakness of her army. She knew she had to get rid of it.

Yet it still stays, to this day, now picking up the habit of whistling from her own carelessness.

Dear angel, someone help her, she must be going soft.

************************************************

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Comments are my life blood, so feel free to tell me your thoughts!


	4. Further Musings on Mistakes

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Further musings of Kane and the possible mistakes she's made in regards to this odd skeleton. Why did she have to go and name the thing?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Content warning for this chapter:  
Talks of a coup, a character gets cursed, but it's nothing major.

** _Further Musings on Mistakes_ **

Of all of her blunders, Kane would have to say her biggest was when she decided to name it.

She didn’t really think much of the act when she first gave it a name. It’s like when someone names a little animal they see in their garden, right? Yes, everything should be fine. No attachment necessary.

It was an unusual thing, the circumstances that had led to her coming up with the name.

She could technically blame it all on one of her worthless followers. Followers whose presence nor input she desired, yet provided anyway.

“And so, my Empress, if you would employ me and train me in the ways of your magic, I could operate as your own personal spy. I could infiltrate any human gathering you would ask of me, places your skeletons couldn’t even dream of going.”

“They don’t dream, peasant” she grunted tiredly.

“I’m no peasant, I can assure you. But yes, of course. However, you understand my point, correct? With someone on the inside, you could become a queen! And, if I may be so bold as to offer my humble opinion, you’d do a much better job of it than the current fool who sits on your future throne.”

Kane blinked, tilting her head slightly.

“Impressive isn’t it, my Empress? I have it all thought out!”

Her silence dragged on for several moments. She quietly noted her newest skeleton clicking its fingers together.

“...My Empress?”

“You talk too much” she finally spoke, in a lazy, tired tone.

“Pardon me?”

“You’re pardoned.” She smiled to herself at his sputtering.

“My Empress, was I not understood? I-”

“Are you questioning me?”

“N-No! No, of course not my Empress, I’m just… confused is all. I’m offering you my services and the opportunity of a lifetime!”

“Do you really think I’d want or need your assistance if I wanted that throne? No, no, no, you silly fool. I don’t want a throne. I’ve never been interested in a life in that world.”

“My Empress, I don’t understand!”

“What is there to understand? I do not desire the throne to the human kingdom. I hardly want the title of Grand Mage. It’s just everyone’s sour luck that I’m the only human competent enough in Determination magic to warrant the title.”

“But why not my Empress? You and your horde can rule this land with a fist of iron, you’d have every peasant across the land at your feet, you’d have endless bodies to add to your army!”

“And when, pray tell, did I say I wanted that? No, I’m rather content in my own world. I find it much more manageable ruling over you lot. Never could stand the mess of politics, too much talking and deceit, not nearly enough time for hobbies.”

“Are you trying to tell me reviving an army of the dead, creating curses, and brewing potions of malintent are hobbies to you?!”

“Well, when you put it like that, it does sound rather blasé.”

“My Empress-”

“Silence, peasant.”

“I am not a peasant!”

Kane blinked at him. This suddenly got far more interesting. It was a rare time when one of them decided to talk back.

“I am a noble of the house of Brundswick! I will not be treated like a commoner!”

“Oh, look at the fancy man, getting all huffy. I wonder how long it’ll be till he pops.”

The skeleton at her side “smiled” at the human’s indignation.

“My Empress-!”

“Silence!”

The human gulped, but at least had the common sense to stop talking. The skeleton flinched a little, but carried on with its little clicks and taps.

“Now, let me get this straight. You come to my home, demand my attention, propose some ridiculous plan, and when I decline, you turn apple red because you think your birth name alone deserves any of my respect? Have you forgotten who you’re speaking to?”

The human remained silent.

“Well?”

“N-No, my Empress. F-Forgive me, I-.”

“Oh dear angel, can you say nothing quickly? Just stop talking, I don’t want another word out of you. You,” she gestured to the skeleton. “Keep an eye on him. I’ll be right back.”

“My Mistress, I shall.”

With a nod, Kane stood up, seemingly hovering along the floor and into an attached room. She might as well give this human something to make sure he stayed away. She had no particular desire to see his face or hear his absurd plan again in the future. Perhaps a stone hexed with poor directional awareness? Maybe a tonic of forgetfulness?

She had been gone for less than a minute when she heard some kind of clattering and yelling. She stormed back in, only to see her skeleton hiding behind her chair, the human throwing a fit of curses and rants.

“I can’t leave for two minutes, can I?”

She shook her head, gliding over and placing a firm palm on the human’s hand.

_“Wing-garagara absurdoa jasin ding-daradara.”_ She murmured the quiet spell over and over again, the human’s eyes rolling back into his head for a brief moment.

When she finally did let go of the human’s hand, he slumped forward like a bag of wet potatoes. Kane almost could have laughed if she wasn’t already furious. He made a small choking sound for a few moments before finally attempting to speak.

“Do to me, what did, witch you?!”

He seemed startled by his own words, tenderly holding his throat.

“Speaking, normally, can’t why, speaking?!”

The skeleton tilted its head at the human, clicking its fingers to itself.

“Like me, speaking he is” it mused to itself.

Kane chuckled at that. It wasn’t really wrong, that spell did make this human sound like the skeleton’s odd speech pattern. “That he is, that he is.” She tilted her eyebrows at it, thinking.

“Fix it, Empress, mine fix it!”

“Not now, just stop talkin. It’ll wear off in a few hours. I just wanted you to shut up for a while. It’s best for you to not try speaking until the curse wears off.”

The human sputtered for a brief second before gathering whatever he brought with him- some of his silly little sketches for his plan- and scuttling pitifully out of her chamber.

As she watched him, she heard a little whisper next to her. She let her eyes swivel over to the skeleton.

It was whispering the curse to itself. It tapped the tips of its fingers together, murmuring the syllable individually, eyes deep in concentration. It didn’t really get them right, not enough to accidentally trigger the curse. From what she could hear, the only ones it was getting right were “Wing” and “Ding”.

“Did you find something interesting about that jinx?”

The skeleton jumped a little, looking back up at its master.

“No, my Mistress.”

She tilted her eyebrows.

“Very well, WingDings.”

She paused. She wasn’t sure why she said that. It… felt right, she supposed. WingDings. The skeleton looked a little startled at being addressed in this manner, tilting its head. It looked down, mumbling its… name to itself a few times before looking back at its master.

WingDings. She named it WingDings.

*********************************************

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well this chapter was stupid hard to write. I swear, I had been scratching my head at this one for a while, but I have more chapters pretty much ready to go! Also, I have now included art for the previous chapters, as well as this one! I will try to include a small drawing with each chapter, so I hope you enjoy!
> 
> Happy New Years! My resolution is to be better at updating chapters and responding to comments, so here's hoping!


	5. The Nature of Questions

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> When a slave reaches new horizons, how will Kane react?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Content warnings for this chapter:  
Emotionally abusive behavior

** _The Nature of Questions_ **

It only took a few simple words from the skeleton to snap Kane out of her private musings.

She stared at her skeleton, slack jawed. It stared back at her, tilting its head at her, eyes wide as silence hung between them. It taped together its fingers and fidgeting nervously, possibly regretting its own course of action. She turned the words over and over in her head, trying to process them.

WingDings had asked her a question.

It wasn’t a grand question. A simple one. It had asked it as Kane stepped outside as it was sweeping the front porch. It was a perfectly lovely day today, barely even a cloud in the sky. A gentle breeze carried the song of birds through the moss hanging lazily from the trees above them, and across the river surrounding the estate.

As she stepped out to inspect its work, WingDings looked up at the sky, distracted by something, then asked her a question:

“Why blue, my Mistress, is the sky?”

“Why is the sky blue”, her mind supplied as it translated WingDings jumbled way of speaking. It was such an innocent question to ask. It wouldn’t be out of place for a child to ask a question like that one.

Except it shouldn’t be asking questions! It shouldn’t be possible for it to ask questions! It shouldn’t even be able to understand how to ask a question!

And yet, here it was, having asked a simple question, only to be greeted by about a minute of tense silence.

“My Mistress…?” it called, whispering very quietly, hesitant.

Kane shook her head, collecting her thoughts. “Uhm… you see that big ball of light up there?” Why was she indulging it? She should stop this now, order it to never ask questions ever again.

“Yes?”

“Well, its light is all sorts of colors, but we hardly ever see any of it. Most of it gets absorbed by the sky and clouds, like a sponge soaking up water. Blue light, however, is fast enough that it can get through the sky, so we can see the blue.”

“Ooooh” WingDings hummed, seemingly satisfied with that answer. It turned its attention back to cleaning, whistling through its teeth every so quietly.

Kane blinked at it, turning back around to go inside. She needed to sit down. Drink some water. Get her wits about her.

So the skeleton can ask questions now…

This is concerning. Concerning being the gentlest word for it. It was probably a terrible idea to even entertain answering its question. This wasn’t something she should be encouraging, answers only encourage more questions.

A being created without soul or free will is now able to ask its master questions. Did it even realize that’s what it was doing? Was it just copying behavior again, like with the whistling? No, being able to ask questions isn’t something that can just be copied… he’s not just parroting something either, she can’t recall there ever being a time where she asked or was asked why the goddamn sky was blue.

No, this was something of WingDings’ own thought.

Thought.

It should not be having thoughts! Of any kind! Much less a capacity to understand its own lack of knowledge. Questions indicated a… self awareness, in Kane’s eyes. The thought process required to ask questions should be impossible for skeletons, by design.

Maybe she’s overreacting. Maybe it really is just parroting something it randomly heard and her memory is just failing to remember when.

Kane sighed, deciding the cracks in her floor were interesting enough to look at.

This was a one time thing.

A freak accident.

Right?

******

WingDings asked a question again.

It had been a few weeks by the time it asked a new question, and Kane had nearly forgotten about the whole incident.

“Is what, my Mistress, that is” WingDings asked, pointing to a bird that had perched itself on the windowsill.

“That’s a bird. They live around here.”

“Why?”

Kane felt like she was speaking to a small child.

“They just do. They like the trees around here, and there’s bugs for them to catch.”

“Oh…”

WingDings tilted its head curiously at the little creature. It watched the bird hop around, pecking at the window frame lightly before it started singing.

“Sound, my Mistress, what is that?”

“It’s singing.”

“Singing…?”

“Yes, singing. Birds, crickets, humans and monsters do it. They make music with their voice. Some songs are very lovely, while others are just noise.”

“Sing, my Mistress, can you?”

“No.”

“Why” it asked, a little disappointed sounding.

“That’s not your concern. Last I checked, you don’t need to know that to sweep the floor” she snapped, with a very flat and perhaps a little too harsh of a tone. She really didn’t mean to sound angry, she wasn’t even thinking before she saw the skeleton flinch a little.

“O-Oh, okay… I asked, my Mistress, I’m sorry I did...” WingDings murmured, returning to its task of sweeping the floor, staying silent, staying tense. Kane observed it for a bit, watching it trying to focus on its task, but occasionally stealing a glance at the bird. She watched it slowly reach out to try to touch it, then deflate a little when it flew away, understandable spooked. When it looked at Kane, noticing her eyes on it, it tensed, immediately locking its eyes back to the floor to carry on.

She wasn’t sure what to make of the whole display. On one hand, she felt a little pity for the skeleton, it really did look sad as the bird flew away. But the other hand was quick to remind her that this thing did not have feelings. It wasn’t supposed to be capable of feeling sad or disappointed.

Then why did a cold little feeling wrap around her gut when she snapped at it? Her tone wasn’t even that threatening, it’s one she’s used on other skeletons and people. She’s never felt regret over using it before. So why now?

She tried her best to push this out of her mind for now. It’s best to not get attached to any of these skeletons. They’re mindless, soulless, and probably going to be destroyed the next time anyone gets brave enough to try to break into her home.

Something about the idea made her sick.

Best not to worry about it, her mind supplied.

******

In the weeks following the bird incident, Kane had begun to notice things.

When WingDings seemingly gathered up the courage to ask her questions again, it always did so with an air of hesitation. The questions were safe. Surface level. Very rarely did it ask more than one at a time. And it always avoided that three letter word.

“Rain come, my Mistress, from where?” it would ask.

“The clouds” she would respond.

“Doing what, my Mistress, are you?” it would shyly ponder.

“I’m writing a letter to a fellow magic user.” she would reply flatly.

“Fire work, my Mistress, how does it?” it weakly questioned.

“It uses fuel like wood and coal to make heat and light.” she responded, matter of factly.

On and on and on, it would ask a question every few days. Kane could tell it always wanted to ask that three letter word again. It really wanted to. But it didn’t. It stopped after it got its answer, despite more questions coming to mind in its silence.

She wasn’t sure how to feel about it. She didn’t know if she was relieved it wouldn’t prod, or if she was disappointed. She didn’t admit it but… she felt satisfaction in answering its questions. Some of the more tolerable humans and monsters she’d encountered shared that trait, that thirst for knowledge. Her tone probably didn’t help, the skeleton was probably learning that she wanted nothing to do with its questions.

Its habit of asking questions were on the decline.

But, it had also picked up the annoying habit of starting to avoid her.

Unless she called for it specifically, it would try to busy itself in a separate room of the estate. Of course there were times it got unlucky. It was either summoned or trapped doing a chore in a room she’d later enter. The skeleton would try its best to find a quick escape. Sometimes it found one. Other times, it didn’t. It was during the times it didn’t that’s usually when the question would present itself. She wasn’t sure if this was disobedience that warranted a punishment yet.

It was after she had summoned it to bring her her spell book that WingDings crossed a line.

It was a normal day. Perfectly normal. All Kane wanted was to practice some of her more difficult potions. She has asked the skeleton to bring the book to her and wait by her side while she looked through the book and copied notes down for later.

The skeleton was plenty uncomfortable, displaying all of its little flaws; clicking its fingers together, rubbing its feet, slouching, chewing on its sweater, everything.

She paid it no mind. It was just waiting for new instructions.

But, in a quiet moment of Kane reading that tome, WingDings leaned over the arm of her chair, looking at the page she was on.

“Come from this, my Mistress, did I?”

The room went shockingly still and silent. Kane slowly turned her head to look at WingDings, trying to mask her utter shock at the nature of its question.

“Did I come from this?”

This was a whole different type of question than it asking why the sky was blue. Asking why the sky was blue could easily be copied or parroted from some other source, nothing too important to the skeleton personally. But this… This was an existential question.

It asked a question about the nature of its own existence, its own creation.

“U-Uhm… no, not specifically this spell…” Kane sputtered nervously.

“Spell, my Mistress, then which?” WingDings questioned, its eye sockets wide and wondering. This was the first follow up question in quite some time. Why, of all questions to continue with, was it the one she had no desire to answer.

“I can’t show you that.” This conversation needed to end. She needed to shut this down now. She should’ve shut this down the second she noticed it started happening. Luckily, that answer should end it-

“Why not?”

Kane’s mind ceased all thoughts for a second, snapping her head toward her servant.

“Excuse me?”

“Can’t know, my Mistress, why?”

It challenged her. It should’ve just taken her answer as an order to stop. But it didn’t. It directly challenged her answer and her authority over it. And it just looked at her with wide eyes, like it didn’t even realize that’s what it did. She snapped the spell book closed, standing up.

“My Mistress?”

“Stop speaking. Now.”

WingDings flinched harshly at her tone, but obeyed. It clutches its hands together, looking up at her.

“You are to never ask me about my magic again. Never. Do you understand me? Yes or no?”

It nods its head yes, quickly.

“And don’t ever question my decisions or authority ever again, or I will have you replaced. Do you understand me?”

It nodded yes, very quickly this time. Its eyes were wide, and she could hear its bones faintly rattling. And for a split second, she felt guilty. She felt guilty for inspiring fear into this tiny skeleton. The guilt was pushed down.

“Get out of my sight, and stay out of my sight for the rest of the evening.”

WingDings turned on its heel and almost ran away from her, out of sight, its footsteps echoing down the hall until those too left her perception.

She stared down at the spell book in her grasp, squeezing it tightly. With her rage dying down, there was nothing to keep the guilt bubbling back up into her heart. What did the skeleton do to deserve that? Ask a simple question? Request an explanation for behavior it hasn’t encountered before?

She sat back down in her chair, sighing.

“You there, take this back to the library” she numbly ordered, handing the book off to another skeleton.

“Yes Mistress” it replied in its cold, dead, flat inflection, setting out to complete its task. Kane had never felt disturbed by her skeletons before, but she had grown used to WingDings more lively, if odd way of speaking. And the way it taps its fingers and rocks back and forth when not busy and its odd way of walking and-

_No._

_No, this needs to stop, this needs to end._

She had to get rid of it. There was nothing else to say on the matter, she had to get rid of it.

******************************************

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Gotta love that sweet sweet angst :)


	6. Out of Defiance

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's gone on long enough, according to the Witch of Bones. She needed to get rid of it, before it caused any more trouble.  
But, when the time comes, will she have the strength to go through with it?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Content warning for this chapter:  
Threats of violence, threats of death, emotionally abusive behavior

** _Out of Defiance_ **

Kane had made up her mind. She had to get rid of WingDings. She had allowed it to exist far longer than it should have, and its flaws were getting worse. How long would it be until it started to openly rebel against her? How long until it turned on her?

Those questions cycled around her mind over and over, like a planet in orbit. They had troubled her for days now, ever since the incident with WingDings and the book. WingDings had now been completely avoiding her. It pretended to finish up whatever task it was doing whenever she entered so it could leave as quickly as possible. When it wasn’t busy, it pretended to be needed somewhere one the opposite side of the estate.

She had stopped summoning it as well. She couldn’t let herself get more attached than she already was. She couldn’t handle it asking her any more questions, although she supposed that she’s probably scared it from ever trying again.

She felt a twinge of guilt fire through her at that thought.

It was late at night when she decided to finally do it. She knew what it would take. One good, clean strike to its sternum, and that would be it. She just needed to damage the symbols enough so that the magic keeping it alive finally failed. Then she could burn the bones and forget any of this ever happened.

She picked up a dagger, examining it. Too light, she thought, putting it back down. She needed something heavy. Something that could crack bones, but something she could direct and control. She looked over her options.

A sword.

A sword would do nicely.

She picked up her old broad sword, taking a few good practice swings with it. She felt the air hum as it cut through the space around her. It felt right in her hands, despite not having picked it up in many years. Magic had taken her interest much more than swords did.

But for now, this would do.

She gripped the sword tightly in her grasp as she steeled her nerves. It wouldn’t fight back, they weren’t capable of fighting back against her. But she had a feeling it would beg. That it would plead. For all she knew, it might even cry.

She paused at the image of WingDings crying. Her grip loosened as something cold and wretched tried to take hold in her gut. Kane shook her head, trying to dismiss the image. She couldn’t let herself put this off any longer.

It had to be done.

Taking a lantern to guide her way, she stepped out of her chambers. The estate was dark and still, only the wind and rain outside disturbing the quiet. Tree branches tapped against the window glass as thunder rolled in the distance.

She let the rain drown out her doubting thoughts. The thoughts she couldn’t really silence herself.

She heard the sounds of her guards moving about the estate, keeping a watch. They were the only parts of her horde active this late.

It made things easier.

She dragged herself down the hall, her footsteps feeling heavy as she approached the room she searched for. Her skeletons’ quarters.

Her skeletons didn’t need to sleep of course. But she also couldn’t run their magic non stop. Magic needed to be restored somehow.

So, unless alerted to intruders, her skeletons remained inactive for the duration of the night. It was like they were dead all over again. They didn’t move, they didn’t speak, and they didn’t respond to sound, touch, smell, or being moved in that state. The only things that could wake them were the guards or Kane herself.

She wouldn’t need to do that.

She slowly slid the door open. Inside, there was her horde, standing against the long walls of the corridor, perfectly still, like grim statues.

She walked past each and every one of them. She examined each skeleton on either wall. Each time she looked, she was greeted with hollow, lifeless eyes, faces cast down to the floor, their bodies blanketed with shadow.

She looked.

And she looked.

And she looked.

No WingDings.

In fact, what she did find was a gap in the line. A skeleton out of place. A skeleton defying her. That gap must be WingDings.

It escaped.

Kane cursed silently to herself. It must’ve escaped. Where else would it be? It must’ve guessed this was coming and fled. To where, she didn’t know. There was no peasant on Earth mad enough to hide one of her skeletons, especially from her.

Maybe to the swamp?

No, it would get sucked down into the muck and mire before it even made it 100 paces.

So where then?

Kane was jostled out of her private, spiraling reflection by a slight bump from down the hall. The rain had quieted for now. She stood still. She listened closer.

Soft noises echoed through her house from her library.

The library.

She should’ve known.

She moved with serpentine grace as she lurked down the hallway, to the slightly open door. She noticed the warm little light pouring out from behind the doorway, flickering. A candle.

When she entered the cluttered room, she cursed at her own disorganization. Papers were scattered everywhere, including the floor. Books were stacked and packed into shelves, with bottles and bottles of ink both regular and magic precariously balanced on what little remaining flat surface there was. She saw the candle light flicker on a desk with a figure stooped over it.

She could recognize the size and shape of WingDings anywhere, even when it was cloaked by shadows, and the dim glares of the weak flame. She slinked across the floor like a shadow, careful to not make a sound. She readied the sword in her hands, preparing it to swing down with all her strength.

But something made her stop. Kane stooped over the intruder quietly to see what it was so stupid enough to try to steal from her. She felt her gut tighten when she recognized what it was.

Her spell book.

This has gone on long enough, she thought, bitterly, creeping up and slamming the book closed.

“Awfully curious now aren’t we” she hissed.

The intruder snapped its head up and whipped around, its face being revealed in the light. Kane was almost taken aback by the sheer amount of terror contained in its eyes. It was drowning in fear, its entire body taut with stress.

“My M-M-Mistress” it squeaked, voice tight and strangled.

“You have a lot of nerve coming here.”

“M-M-My M-M-Mistress, I-”

“You leave your quarters without my authority, and have the audacity to come here?”

“Sorry, m-my Mistress, I-I-I am” it pleads, hiding its face behind trembling hands. That’s when Kane noticed what else is on the desk, besides her book. Papers. Lots and lots of papers. All with scrawled writing in an alien hand very few have knowledge of.

“And what’s all of this?” she snaps, picking up one of the papers.

“C-C-Clean, m-my Mistress, I-I-I will!”

“No, don’t you move. You’re going to get out of that chair, you’re going to move to the center of the room, and you are going to kneel. You’re not going to speak or move from that spot unless I order it. Do that now. Your master commands it.”

WingDings still wanted to plead, wanted to beg, but it obeyed its master. She could hear its bones rattling with every step it took. It did as was told, kneeling in the center of the library, helpless, watching her move around the room.

She examined the pages as she put the book back in its proper place. The ink was still wet, some of it smudged, and some of it she could see on Wing Ding’s finger tips.

She could see through the rough scribbles of Hands, the obscure writing plastered all over the pages. To an outsider, it looks like nothing, some could even generously call it random symbols and chicken scratch. But a master has learned to read her servant’s writing like English. It’s actually similar to the language in her casting book, as a matter of fact.

“WingDings” she demanded. “Did you write all of this?” She snapped her head to look at the cowering skeleton, who only nodded yes.

“For what reason? What did you hope to gain by doing this? Did someone put you up to this?”

WingDings couldn’t even shake or nod its head. The rattling had become deafening. Kane tightened the grip on her sword, losing her patience.

“Answer me! Now!”

“S-s-s-sorry, m-m-my M-M-Mistress, I am. Oh s-s-sorry oh sorry oh s-s-sorry.”

“That didn’t answer my question! Answer me now!”

“T-T-T-to d-do this, my M-M-Mistress, n-n-no one a-a-asked! Q-Q-Questions, I-I-I could n-n-not a-a-ask! T-T-To l-l-learn, I-I-I tried! A-A-All true, all true! I-”

She put her hand on the top of its skull, magic forcing it still and silent. It could do nothing but watch helplessly as Kane stared deep into its eyes, boring holes through its head before she finally let go.

“Why” is all she could ask. “Why do all of this? Why do you keep asking questions?! You’re not supposed to be able to do that! You’re not even supposed to shake like you are! What is wrong with you?!”

Kane listened her own voice like a distant observer as it grew louder and more angry. She didn’t even know why she was angry anymore. By this point she was just yelling down at a tiny thing that wasn’t even able to move or speak to defend itself.

She tightened her grip on the sword’s hilt, her hand shaking. She needed to do this. She needed to end this now.

Kane turned her gaze away from its face, her eyes following down the edge of the blade. She took a deep breath, steadying her nerves, forcing her temper and feelings back under her control.

She reared the blade back, the tip gliding through the air, pointing up over her head. Her arms locked up. She tried to keep her head pointed to the side, she really did. She tried to force her arms to finish the swing, they even started moving, but they just couldn’t force their way forward.

She turned her head back to the small skeleton. It was still frozen in place. The only noise it could make was a small, pitiful wheezing sound. A desperate little sound.

It didn’t really have pupils, so Kane could never really be sure of this. But she could feel its stare locked into her eyes. It’s last, pleading stare to its master.

She couldn’t do it.

She lowered the sword slowly.

“What am I doing…? You’re no threat to me… You can’t even defend yourself unless I let you move again…”

She put a gentle hand over its skull, granting it movement once more. It took a huge gulp of air, collapsing forward into a desperate bow, its entire body shivering and shaking. She could hear its bones clicking and rattling together as small hands wrapping around her ankle, the skeleton pressing its forehead against the ground in front of her.

For a second she raised her eyebrow at the gesture, confused. Her skeletons weren't made to do that, that’s only something-

Oh.

It was copying what it saw peasants doing, whenever they were begging for mercy.

“WingDings… don’t do that…”

The skeleton immediately retracted its hands, keeping them tucked under its chest. “Sorry, m-m-my M-M-Mistress, very I am. Oh sorry oh sorry oh sorry....”

It sounded out of breath… like it was drowning and was finally able to come up above the surface again… its voice, usually so full of energy and dignity, was now some pathetic, whispering thing.

“...Stop apologizing, WingDings…” Kane sighed, dropping the blade in her hands. It clattered to the ground, ringing through the silent room like a hollow whine.

She knelt down in front of it, a very hesitant hand reaching out. After thinking for a few moments, hand hovering tensely in the air, she placed a gentle, tender touch against the top of its skull. The skeleton flinched, tense bones rattling softly. Kane drew her hand back, unsure of what to do...

“...Go back to your quarters WingDings… I don’t know what to do with you right now. When I figure that out, I will summon you.”

The skeleton didn’t move or say anything for a second.

“...S-Sorry my Mistress, promise, very I am…” It was a pitiful whimper, a little final plead to its master.

“Go back to your quarters. Now.”

“...M-M-My M-Mistress, I sh-sh-shall…”

Kane backed up slowly to let the skeleton stand up and quietly shuffle out of the study, its head bowed low, face pointed at the ground. It left its papers behind, which the sorceress picked up to examine later.

She looked around her study again, then at the sword that lay on the ground. She slowly lifted it up, looking down at the blade bitterly, before retreating to her own chambers. She had… much to think about.

************************************************

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Things have to get worse before they get better. Enjoy the angst, y'all.


	7. Writings of a Puppet

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> What kind of questions would a slave puppet ask in private? Well, Kane is about to fine out, isn't she?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Content warning for this chapter:  
None, I don't think.

** _Writings of a Puppet_ **

Kane stared at the writings on the desk, tapping her fingers on the desk as she stared down at them. She had been staring for a while, long after she had finished her pacing. There were about 10 pages for her to read through, fronts and backs filled, and she had no idea or desire to start. Well, that wasn't entirely true…

She really didn’t know where to start. She couldn’t make out if there was any rhyme or reason to the order of the pages, but some referenced writing found elsewhere, either on a different side or a different page all together. She had no way of knowing if this was all the notes it made, or if it’s hiding more elsewhere.

What was at least partially untrue was that she didn’t want to start. She decided almost as soon as she had picked up those pages that she needed to know what exactly it was so curious about. there was that word again- Curious. But then again, she was… scared? She wasn’t sure if that was the right word… maybe worried? Whatever the emotion was, she felt it over if she had snapped and nearly destroyed her own skeleton for what was possibly nothing, or if she’d let it off too easy and these notes held evidence of a conspiracy…

She shuffled the papers back into a stack, lying down on her bed to read, her eyes scrolling across the pages.

While reading, she had discovered a few things about this skeleton.

First off, WingDings is much more comprehensible in writing than it is while speaking. While it didn’t seem to really grasp proper grammar, at least it puts is subjects and verbs in the right order.

Second, it asked… a lot of questions.

_“Magic humans, origins unknown… Magic monsters, comes from soul… Monster souls: love, kindness, mercy… Required for monsters… Required for humans?”_

Kane raised an eyebrow. It’s souls its curious about then? She continued to read.

_“Cyan, Orange, Green, Blue, Purple, Yellow, and Red… Seven souls… Different souls... different magic… Differences?”_

The word red was circled, a side note reading _“Mistress? Life magic.”_ sitting beside it. She wouldn’t have called her magic “life magic”, but she supposed that it pretty much was to an entity like WingDings.

_“Red souls… rare… red magic… essential for humans… red magic… Determination… exist after death… monsters… no determination… not enough to manifest… except Boss Monsters... Determination substance? ...Object or monster given determination?”_

Kane blinked at that. Determination didn’t work like that, it couldn’t have… right? No, it was impossible. Right?

_“Object… no soul… I have no soul? ...Make me an object? ...Human soul absorb monster soul… monster soul absorb human soul… powerful beings… no record… never happened?”_

Besides that last point, there was a note quickly scribbled in reading _“check history book.”_ Kane didn’t know if that meant it’s done this before, or if was planning on coming back again. She didn’t know how to feel about either option.

_“Hp… Exp… LV… Attack… Defense… markings of souls… how is this known? ...Spell? ...Different colors mean different markings?”_

As she continued to read the page front and back, she had confirmed her suspicions. WingDings had questions. Many, many questions. Questions it didn’t dare ask her, even before she put fear of her into it. She had hardly ever seen a mind this invested, human or monster, into what magic is...

She flipped to a new page.

This page didn’t have the same type of questions that the previous page did, much more about very basic concepts such as how plants grow or why certain plants harm certain creatures. She does get a chuckle out of WingDings’ musings as to what would happen if it ingested any of them.

She had no way of interpreting what she was reading… it was like reading a mind of something both very young and very old… a mind which asked questions as laughable as what a cat is to questions as intriguing as at what point does the line between animal and monster and human begin to blur in terms of souls…

She continued reading, discovering new thing number three about WingDings.

As curious of a mind as it possessed, it didn’t really seem… interested in certain subjects. If it didn’t have to do with souls, it seemed to show almost no interest in subjects of philosophy or psychology… no, it gravitated to the concrete sciences. Things with answers. Chemistry and geology it seemed most intrigued by, with the exception of its fascination towards magic.

There were pages upon pages of copied diagrams of the Earth and its layers, notes about the core and how heat works, even some basic formulas for some of her potions, although all the questions noted in the margins indicated a deep lack of understanding for what they meant.

Kane didn’t know what to make of it… all of this curiosity… all of this genuine interest in learning about the world and the very forces that drive it… all of these traits that she truly admired in people she saw it in… and she was willing to destroy it, just because it wasn’t coming from the “right” source…

She looked at the sword hanging on the wall, that wretched feeling settling in her gut, her protests unable to drive it away any longer.

She had nearly destroyed WingDings… one of the only things she’d managed to grow fond of, with traits she’d praise in other beings… and she had nearly destroyed it for those traits.

She had finally reached the last of its writings, and discovered the fourth and last about this small skeleton.

It was confused.

Confused in a way that very few ever woke up to feel.

_“Skeletons objects… feels nothing… but I feel things? ...Don’t I? ...Obeys their master without question… incapable of disobeying… would destroy themselves if master ordered it… Would I do that for mistress? ...I follow because I want to… Don’t I? ...Is it want? ...What does want even mean? ...Mistress has been so angry lately… angry at me… is she going to order me to destroy myself soon? ...Is that a common request? ...I don’t mean to be bad…”_

Kane gulped thickly. Its writing stopped there, a long drag of ink across the page from when she… interrupted.

She sighed, putting the papers down on her nightstand.

She’ll sleep on all of this and make a decision in the morning.

******

It was early in the morning when the smell of smoke woke her up. The smell itself wasn’t very unusual, part of the morning routine were for a skeleton to light a fire to warm the old estate up. No, what was unusual was how… early this part had started.

Kane was usually at least already awake and up by the time the skeletons hard started this part of the morning… Did she sleep in?

She rolled over in her head to look out the window. No, the sun was barely over the horizon, maybe 7 am if she had to guess. She sat up, rolling her shoulders out, blinking in an attempt to banish the remnants of sleep from her eyes. She was still, smelling the air. It wasn’t anything cooking… just regular logs…

She stood up, rubbing her eyes, peering out into the hallway. The smell of fire was coming down from the foye...

_Okay, so there’s nothing wrong with where the fire is… so why is the fire being lit so early…?_

She slowly crept down the hall, quietly pushing the door open. She silently cursed the old hinges as they groaned in protest, spotting a familiar small shape hunched over in front of the fire.

WingDings straightened its back as it turned its head around to face her. It was obviously clutching something in its hands, and the grip on whatever it was seemed to tighten as it spotted Kane standing in the doorway.

“WingDings, what are you doing up already?”

“S-Sorry my Mistress, I very am…” it’s voice was quiet, whispery.

“What’s in your hands?” It tensed, looking back down to what it was holding. “WingDings. Answer me.”

“...P-Paper…”

“Is it more pages from last night?”

“From last night, not from, they are…”

Kane sighed to herself. She had suspected that this wasn’t a one time incident.

“How long have you been sneaking into my library?”

“...day, a few, my Mistress…” It clutched the papers before looking back at the fire.

“What are doing up this early, WingDings?” The skeleton didn’t respond, just looked down at the papers, back to the fire, then back to Kane.

“Bad, have been I… Bad, I’m stopping… destroying…”

Kane tensed, understanding now.

“Did you burn any yet?”

WingDings flinched a little. It paused before shaking its head in shame. Kane felt a little bit of relief that it hadn’t destroyed its work yet.

“Mad, please not, at me, my Mistress… Now, destroying start shall I...”

WingDings nearly dropped one of the pages into the fire, hands shaking before Kane intervened.

“No, don’t!” she exclaimed, almost a little too forcefully, causing the skeleton to jump a little, but pulled the paper away from the fire.

“M-My Mistress-?!”

“WingDings… come here, bring your papers with you… Actually, one moment.”

She vanished and reappeared faster than WingDings could properly keep track of, holding the stack of paper she took last night.

“Sit down WingDings. Let’s talk.”

****************************************************

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well heya. Been a hot minutes hasn't it? Well, yeah, I don't really have much of an excuse except college is hard. Anyway, enjoy the new chapter! It was fun trying to write in the style of Entry 17. New chapter will come much faster this time, I promise!


	8. Musings of a Puppet

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The witch of bones makes a... compelling offer to her little puppet.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Content warning for this chapter:  
None, I don't think...
> 
> Also, enjoy a chapter from WingDings' perspective!

** _Musings of a Puppet_ **

WingDings very slowly lifted itself onto the seat Mistress gestured to. It was… confused. It thought Mistress was angry with it… Mistress seemed so last night at least… But, it wasn’t one to disobey direct orders, and thus found itself crouched upon the cushioned chair across the small table from Mistress, who had taken to lounging in a recliner.

WingDings rubbed its feet against the softer material, its fingers slightly gripping the fabric. It always liked the feeling of the seat… it liked the feeling of certain fabrics in general. It also liked the feeling of paper and leather… it liked the smell of ink and charcoal… it didn’t particularly like the feeling of human skin… it didn’t like the feeling of silk or satin or fabrics that were too smooth or-

“WingDings.”

The skeleton’s little thoughts and distractions evaporated, its fingers releasing the cushion, instead occupying themselves by tracing little patterns onto the papers in its hands.

“Y-Y-Yes, my Mistress…?”

“I… I read your notes last night. Took the time to read every page, trying to find some kind of motive or reason I suppose…”

“R-R-Read them, m-m-my Mistress…?”

“Yes, I read them.”

WingDings sunk down into its sweater quietly… What Mistress must think of it… having the nerve to try and understand _Mistress’_ magic… especially after Mistress specifically told it to stop asking questions…

“Answers, my Mistress... went looking for them, did I… Shouldn’t have, I did, go looking… sorry Mistress, I very am…”

Mistress held up a hand. WingDings almost flinched, but obeyed the silent order.

“Stop apologizing WingDings. I wanted to tell you that I think your notes are…” Mistress paused. WingDings lowered its head as its mind supplied a number of possible conclusions to the statement, none of which were good. _“Crude. Pathetic. Stupid. Idiotic-”_

“Impressive.”

WingDings perked its head back up. “... What…?”

“WingDings, your notes were really impressive.”

WingDings let its shoulders relax slightly. “R-r-really?” It looked down at the papers in its hands. Mistress was… impressed? By its writings…? Its sloppy little notes…? “Why, my Mistress…?”

“WingDings, you’ve got… something special here… you ask the right questions, questions most ‘apprentices’ that come crawling to my doorstep are too dense to even think of asking.” Mistress spoke like it was the most obvious thing in the world… and maybe it was, to beings like Mistress… Mistress is so wise and intelligent… so far above things like WingDings…

It tilted its head at Mistress, trying to express its confusion. “My Mistress, think do I…? With logic, seeming to me… broken logic...”

“I wouldn’t call it broken, WingDings. Just… unrefined. You’re not to blame for that, you have a very limited scope of the world around you.”

“S-Sorry, my Mistress-”

“No, stop apologizing. You’re not to blame for your own lack of knowledge, WingDings… what this shows me is you tried to fulfill what you were lacking… what I refused to fulfill…”

“M-My Mistress…?”

“WingDings, what I did to you… It went against my own code… when I became a mage and started gaining power, I always used to tell myself that I would never punish those who pursued knowledge. I was punished by my village as a little girl for pursuing the knowledge I’ve gained, and yet, what did I do last night except punish you just the same…”

WingDings had a suspicion this was a moment where it was meant to just sit and listen… Mistress had moments like this, talking to it and then eventually drifting to talking to no one in particular… but what Mistress was saying was confusing the skeleton.

“So… to me, punish, you aren’t going, my Mistress…?”

Mistress sighed. “No WingDings… I’m not going to punish you.”

Oh what a blessed day! Mistress wasn’t going to punish it after all! WingDings felt the tension leave its bones, tucking the papers close to its chest. Mistress made a reach towards it, handing it back the pages from last night.

“My M-M-Mistress, for you, have thanks, from me!”

It bowed slightly for its Mistress to make sure she understood its gratitude. At least, that’s how the humans and monsters did it when they were thanking Mistress for something… Which is why it was a bit confused when Mistress didn’t do her laugh or even her smile like she did with them… did it do something wrong…?

“WingDings, sit up please.”

WingDings obeyed the order, quiet, save for it tapping its fingertips.

“WingDings… I do not like how I behaved towards you over the past few weeks… I punished you for things I would usually admire in humans and monsters… I would like to amend that… with an offer for you.”

“Offer…?”

“Yes, an offer. I don’t want you to answer right away, today, or even this week. You can come to me with your decision when you’re certain about it.”

“...Decision…? Understand, not I, my Mistress…”

“WingDings… I’d like you to be my apprentice.”

For once, WingDings stopped tapping its fingers together. It didn’t know what to do with its body right at that moment, it was still trying to comprehend what Mistress just told it. It stared at Mistress for a long time, unable to determine if this was some kind of odd loyalty test, or something else of that nature. “Understand, n-n-not I, my M-M-Mistress! Skeleton, am only… Command, my Mistress, follow I shall!”

“WingDings, we both know you’re beyond that by now.”

It gave Mistress a look of silent, but utter confusion. “Decision, make I, how, my Mistress…? Soul… none have I…”

“I’m aware of that WingDings. I’m leaving the offer on the table, while I… study something. In the meantime, I’m going to assure you that, from here on out, your curiosity shall no longer be punished. You have free access to my library and may ask me any question you might come across.”

“B-B-But… servant, to you my Mistress, I am only...”

“WingDings, if you were only that, we wouldn’t even be here having this conversation in the first place. Never in my time of making skeletons did one of them interpret an order like you did. You interpreted ‘Stop asking me questions’ as ‘I’m going to go answer my own questions.’ I have to admit, it’s that type of rule bending I almost admire from people.”

It blinked at Mistress a few times but remained silent, processing all it’s been told. It silently chewed the neck of its sweater, nervous and unsure… it wasn’t sure how to interpret Mistress’ words… Mistress wasn’t ordering it to do anything… Mistress was offering… but it didn’t know what to do with an offer… especially not an offer like the one Mistress just gave it…

“I can tell you have a lot to think about. All I ask is that you think about what I said. You have something special in that skull of yours WingDings. I want to make amends for reacting to it the way I did. Take all the time you need to think on it. Until then, I am relieving you of most of your duties.”

“Wh-What?!”

“You are relieved of your duties as a servant until further notice. If I need something of you, I’ll request it, but you no longer adhere to the standard routine. You can use this new free time however you’d like as long as you do not leave the estate. Understood?”

“Y-Yes my M-Mistress!”

“Good. I’ll leave you to it then.”

With that, Mistress stood up, dusted off the chair, and left. Left WingDings alone. With nothing but its papers and thoughts. And it certainly did have much to think about.

*******************************

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, my University's shut down and I'm home for quarantine for the time being, so let's see if that means I'll be able to post chapters a bit faster. Anyway, enjoy the new chapter y'all, and sorry for the kinda late upload!


	9. Experiments in Broken Limits

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which WingDings tests its new boundaries, and Kane tries her best to make it feel safe again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Content warning for this chapter:  
None, I don't think...

**_Experiments in Broken Limits_**  


In the weeks following the incident in the library, Kane could see the skeleton testing its newfound rules. It was… cute? Would cute be the right word? She wasn’t sure if she could call a skeleton cute, or maybe that she would be the only one to call it cute.  


Anyway, she could see WingDings’s subtle tests. Or, maybe what it thought was subtle.  


It first started by just letting itself exist in a space without working. It didn’t pick up a broom or cleaning rag or food tray in weeks. Kane was almost impressed.  


It still seemed too nervous to exist in the same space that Kane did. It never went into the same room she was in on purpose. Sometimes it wandered in, saw she was there, and quickly found itself wandering back out. She expected this. She knew that WingDings would still be terrified and unsure of her intentions after… the library incident.  


Patience was never her strong suit… but she knew she’d have to learn it for this to ever start to work…  


Every once in a while, she’d catch glimpses of it reading the spell book to itself, but it didn’t seem to be taking any more notes for the time being. It would also quickly put the book away once it noticed Kane watching it. A shame.  


It took weeks of this tentative back and forth for anything more to arise. It took that long for the skeleton to feel comfortable enough to openly read the book in front of Kane. It wouldn’t be without tense looks… but it would happen.  


When it did happen, Kane found herself… awfully pleased. She had gone looking for the skeleton that was increasingly hard to keep track of, only to find it in the foyer, reading the spell book while sprawled out on the floor. She had found herself laughing a little at the sight, something so domestic and childish…  


The laugh made the thing jump a little, quickly looking back at her. She had expected it to pick up the book, hand it to her, and scuttle away. That’s what it had done for the past few weeks whenever she found it reading. But not this time. No, this time, after looking at her for a few moments, it hesitantly turned its attention back to the book, picking up where it left off.  


She nodded in satisfaction, going to sit on her lounge couch to look over a book of her own. It was… pleasant. The quiet rustling of paper, the tiny clicks the skeleton’s fingers made as they drummed on the floor, the subtle security of someone else in the room… it was all just a pleasant experience.  


It seems WingDings agreed.  


Little moments like that became more and more common as the skeleton relearned to relax around her. It learned that she meant what she said, and that she wasn’t going to take the book away from it again. She admitted to herself she felt guilty that it even needed to relearn it in the first place, but this was her mistake to correct.  


The real victory in her eyes was when the questions finally returned.  


They were very simple questions. Non threatening, the kind that Kane suspected it could find the answer to all on its own with some observation. But it's testing the water.  


“...My Mistress…?”  


It was Kane’s turn to jump a little when the skeleton broke the silence of reading. She looked up, following its gaze out the window.  


“Yes?”  


“...The sun, going down, when it will…?”  


She raised an eyebrow for a second, flicking her eyes up to the object in question. It was just barely above the horizon.  


“...If I had to guess, I’d say in about an hour, hour and a half maybe… why?”  


“Reason, none, my Mistress… wondering, just was…”  


“That’s fine.”  


WingDings nodded, looking back down at the book briefly. It turned back to look at Kane, not saying another word, just watching. After nothing happened for a few moments, it turned back to reading.  


It was a little step, but an important one. Because afterwards, the questions started coming back. At first they were little one shots, questions that it didn’t follow up on.  


“Colors, fire burning, why?”  


“Because certain things burn at different temperatures, and those colors reflect those temperatures.”  


“Doing what, my Mistress?”  


“I’m just brushing my hair, nothing exciting.”  


It went on like that for a few weeks. WingDings would come up with a random question relating to whatever situation the two of them found themselves in, and Kane would answer.  


“Leaves many, why birds have, do they, my Mistress? Fern, looks like...”  


“They don’t, WingDings, they’re covered in feathers. Feathers help them fly.”  


It nodded, picking up a feather off the ground. It ran its finger over the individual fibers, watching how they’d bend and give way to its touch.  


“Magic, they don’t use?”  


Kane was a little startled by the continued conversation. This was WingDings’ first follow up question since the incident… “No, it seems like it sometimes, but birds don’t need magic to fly.”  


WingDings made a little sound of confirmation as it watched the bird fly from tree to tree. Kane couldn’t help but smile a little at the small victory. But, she knew more work needed to be done… she wanted it back to before Kand lost herself… when it used to ask that three letter question…  


That day took many more demonstrations that she wouldn’t snap at it again. Thunder rumbled through the clouds, fat raindrops tapping on the roof and windows. Occasional flashes of lightning filled the sky, the only thing interrupting the inky purple color the clouds sat in.  


“Happening, what is, my Mistress?”  


“It’s raining, WingDings.”  


“Meaning, what does?”  


“It means that the clouds are too full of water, so the water falls out as rain.”  


Kane was ready to turn back to her book and listen to the water tap the window glass before she got a glance at its expression. She could tell. She could tell the word was on the tip of its tongue.  


“.....why…?” It cowered slightly into its sweater as it waited for Kane to respond.  


“Well, as the sun heats up puddles and lakes and the ocean, the water rises up as gas into the sky, where it hangs. If enough water gathers up there, it cools down and turns back to liquid. The liquid can get too heavy, and when that happens, it comes back down as rain.”  


WingDings blinked at her, looking back out the window, then back to her. It thought about her words for a second before nodding softly.  


“Thank, my Mistress, I shall.”  


Kane smiled as it watched the drops roll down the window panes. _Finally_, she thought to herself. _Welcome back, curious one._

*******************************

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Uh.... hi? This year kinda kicked me in the teeth, ngl. I lost a lot of motivation to do much of anything. But, I've got some of my drive back, and a lot of chapters ready to go, so hopefully I'm back for a while. Thank you all for your patience.


	10. Experiments in Unreached Limits

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Kane has an idea, and a new goal in mind.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Content warning for this chapter:  
Very slight description of gore.

**_Experiments in Unreached Limits_**  


After reading WingDings’ notes, Kane could say a curiosity of her own sparked in her mind. It nagged at her. Tickled at nerves and thoughts long dormant.  


Determination is so ubiquitous with being human. Monsters don’t have determination, their bodies are mostly dust and magic, unlike a human with flesh and bones and all that nonsense. Something with such little matter wouldn’t be able to handle the energy of determination.  


That is all common knowledge among human mages and monster scholars alike. That’s something Kane is well aware of. The ability to persist beyond death is exclusive to humans and Boss monsters, and even they will only flicker for a few short moments, like a candle flame in a windstorm, before shattering like glass.  


Kane rolled these facts around in her head like marbles, tapping her fingers on her desk. _What if…_ Kane thought to herself, _you give determination to something that’s soulless…?_  


Well, calling WingDings soulless might not be entirely correct… It was previously a human, with a human soul, one that lingered in the skeleton’s body before her ritual… Kane had been pondering about this from the moment it started developing quirks… While its clumsiness and broken speech pattern could easily be attributed to the cracked runes, its development of curiosity and rudimentary emotions couldn’t.  


She had been wondering for months now if she somehow left remnants of a soul in its vessel...  


She scoured her library, picking out every book she’d collected over the years that related to souls. The pickings were slim, unfortunately, and she cursed herself for not taking a better interest in the subject.  


She plopped the stack of ten or so books onto her desk with a heavy thud. She rubbed at her temples, unsure as to where to even start...  


_I suppose from the beginning._  


She flipped open her spell book, examining the ritual that brought her skeletons to life. It was an elegant spell, in her humble opinion. While the idea of reviving the dead was not her original idea- humans had been dabbling with this breed of magic for centuries- the rune itself was her design. Her magnum opus.  


It was meant to do many things, but three were most critical. First, it would purge the majority of the energy from the body’s soul. Then, the remaining energy would be bound to its host’s bones, giving it just enough magic to move and speak. Finally, it bound the energy to herself, making it obey without question.  


It was that first task she was interested in. She needed to get a good look at the cracks on WingDings’ sternum to confirm it though… But she’d worry about that later.  


She flipped open a different book, this one full of theories as to the origins of souls, what actually happens in the formation of a soul, and what a soul needs to exist.  


From what Kane could find, all that was really known is that souls are created at birth in humans, and at conception for monsters. This made sense, to her at least, as monsters need souls to have a physical form in the first place, and not all monsters are capable of “birth” in the sense that humans understand it. But she wanted to know how.  


She sat back and began to think. Humans need a body for a soul to inhabit. And monsters need a soul to have a body. There had to be something she was missing here. Some kind of intersection, some link, something tying the two races together. Did the colored magic have something to do with it? Is it part of the reason why determination is special? Did-  


The answer smacked into her like a bag of rocks. She scoured another book, flicking through pages like she’d gone mad.  


_Essence,_ she thought. _I know one of these dusty academics described something about essence._  


Her eyes nearly skimmed over the passage in question, but the key word practically jumped out at her.  


_“I don’t believe souls are a purely metaphysical construct. No, when you pierce a human soul, it bleeds. Monster souls shatter, and turn to dust. I don’t believe pure magic can create the results we can observe. I propose there is some physicality to souls, what I’ll call an essence. A substance that binds the soul together, and binds it to the body.”_  


Bingo.  


While this particular passage was decades old, the thought experiments tugged at her curiosity. Essence might be the link she’s looking for.  


She scribbled the word down on a stray paper, then wrote down the soul colors. And her mind took off from there.  


_The colors. They’re the essence. The essence is a physical manifestation of a trait. Are monster souls white because monsters need all types of colored essence? Is that why human souls tend to have dominant colors, because they have more of one type of essence than the others?_  


Her mind was spinning, writing all of her ideas down, her hand getting stained with ink. If her theory about WingDings was correct, she could be on the verge of a breakthrough, something even more impressive than her skeleton runes.  


If she could unlock the secret of essence, she’d unlock the creation of souls themselves.  


******  


It was later that night when she once again entered her skeletons’ quarters. Not with a weapon this time, but with a lantern, some paper, and a pencil.  


She was thankful WingDings had started “sleeping” here again, now that it was no longer convinced she’d kill it at any moment. She winced thinking about that, squashing the guilt back down into her gut. She was doing this for WingDings. She was going to help it.  


She crouched down in front of WingDings, taking a moment to examine it head to toe. She reached out with her magic, _CHECK_, only to be answered back by almost an echo. It was her own magic she’d infused it with, after all.  


She shook her head and concentrated, reaching out again. _CHECK_. She focused hard on the echo she was answered with, more so than she ever considered doing with her skeletons. That’s when she heard it, a little variation among the echo. A tiny blink of magic that wasn’t her own.  


Her theory had been proven correct.  


WingDings still had a little piece of a soul in there. It wasn’t much, barely a whisper in a hurricane. But it was more than she could say about her other skeletons.  


She scribbled it down into her notes, barely even noticing the slight movement in front of her.  


“Mistress…?”  


She nearly jumped out of her skin when she heard WingDings’ tiny voice. She looked up at it as it tilted its head at her.  


“Go back to sleep WingDings. No harm will come to you.”  


“Doing what, are you Mistress?”  


“Research, darling, research.”  


“For what?”  


“I’m going to be running some experiments. Something that could top even the creation of my skeletons.”  


WingDings blinked at that, looking intrigued.  


“Back to sleep with you, dear. Rest now.”  


It was obvious WingDings had more to ask, but it resisted for now. It nodded softly, bowing its head back down to fall back into its eerie stasis.  


Kane rose back to her feet, dusting off her dress. She was already testing formulas in her head as she power walked to her lab.  


She was a woman on a mission. She was going to give WingDings a soul.

*******************************

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Kinda don't dig this chapter, it feels rambling, but whatever. I hope you enjoy!


	11. What is a Soul, but a Strange Tangle of Magic?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Kane does some magic science and does the seemingly impossible.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Content warning for this chapter:  
Self mutilation, very brief

_**What is a Soul, But a Strange Tangle of Magic?**_  


She got it.  


It took months. Months of perfecting and recalculating and experimentation… Kane had felt clumps of hair falling out in her brush, her hands were almost perpetually wrapped in bandages, and she had exhausted almost all of her magical ingredients.  


But she finally got it.  


If all went according to her formulas, she’d have done the impossible, or what everyone else would call impossible.  


She’d found the magic to create souls. And she knew her perfect first real test subject.  


Skeletons weren’t meant to have a soul. Their purpose is to serve or fight. Nothing else. Souls gave them magic of their own. That on its own would’ve been enough of an incentive for her to figure this out a long time ago.  


But souls came with a caveat. Well, not really, but it would be a caveat for anyone looking for a living magic weapon. Souls gave things empathy, love, and compassion. Souls gave an understanding of mercy and forgiveness and emotions, true emotions. Wholly unnecessary, detrimental even, for a skeleton’s original purpose.  


But WingDings had… outgrown its original purpose. Obviously so.  


Kane had made her decision on if she would go through with this long ago. She’d decided that WingDings deserved true emotions. It deserved to feel and experience and interact with the world around it, to the fullest extent possible.  


It was the only way a mind like its could be satisfied.  


She unwrapped the bandages from her hands, and winced at the large, deep cuts driven into her palms. Her hands used to be so lovely… flawless…  


She shook her head. Now was not the time for regret and vanity, now was the time for science.  


The dagger blade dug into her palm, letting the crimson blood drip out into her grinding mortar. She waited a few seconds, watching the blood catch the candle light as it slowly dripped down, listening to the small tapping sound it made as it hit the stone of the mortar before tenderly rewrapping the bandages.  


Carefully, the witch added ingredients to the mortar one by one, all in accordance with her formula, all found from long months of trial and error. A few drops of human blood. A pinch of monster dust, who died of old age. A hand full of ash from the heart of a soldier. Bark from a willow tree under which someone was wed. And a few drops of pure morning dew from graveyard grass.  


She took the pestle and ground up the ingredients together into a thick, almost sandy paste. The dust and ash kicked up into her eyes as she worked, eliciting tears. The tears were promptly added to the mixture.  


She turned her attention to her brewing pot, which was filled with lightly boiling water. Another drop was bled from her hand, and was quickly added to the pot, among other things.  


Galangal root, devil’s shoestring, five finger grass, hops flowers, it all went into the pot. Pungent odors spilled out from the pot’s maw, nearly burning Kane’s nose with its strong smells. Thick smoke settled over the floor as she stirred, adding a pinch of the ground paste. The water churned and gurgled in response, bubbling actively. She fished the ingredients out of the pot to set aside for later, letting the mixture stir itself as it boiled.  


She gathered more flowers from her shelves, giving the bubbling brew another good stir. She couldn’t create essence from nothing, and her soul was too dominated by determination to pull any high concentrations from there. So, she had to implement some… substitutions.  


Ox-eye daisies turned the broth a vibrant cyan. The petals of the borage made it shimmer orange. Ornithogalum drove it down to a deep blue. Kalmia and magnolia, together, tinted the brew purple. Speedwells and blue bells added green. And finally, the buds of jasione and black eyed susans brought the boil to yellow.  


She churned the brew, allowing the flowers to add their little doses of magic to the stew, before fishing them out and adding them to the rest of the used ingredients.  


She ground up the roots and plants and flowers from the pot and added it to the odd paste she was creating. It’s nearly there… but she was out of the easy steps. This strange brew of magical paste and water wasn’t enough to create something like a soul, dear Angel no. This was merely the glue. The glue to bind matter with magic.  


She glided over to an old oak wooden cabinet, the door of which was intricately carved with runes and symbols of death and preservation. The doors were quickly swung open, the witch digging through the shelves and drawers within, searching for a small box. This was a special little box, labeled with a clear date. Specifically, the date of the ritual that brought WingDings to life. It was opened very quickly after it was finally rediscovered.  


Inside was a small collection of tiny bones. Bones skeletons in her horde would no longer need. In WingDings’ case, bones from what was once a human’s ears, the body’s wisdom teeth that had yet to grow, and two very small rib bones from the bottom of the body’s rib cage.  


Or, at least, that’s what used to be inside. That was back before her experiments started, before she had done nearly everything she could with bones to make this spell work. She ground up a rib, boiled an anvil bone, scrapped the other rib, carved into the hammer bone…  


Now, only a single tooth remained. It was now or never.  


She put the tooth down as she turned back to the pot. The coals underneath had given up all the heat they could, and the water had calmed its excitement. She ladled the pungent liquid into an awaiting jar, adding a spoon full of the paste, quickly mixing it together. One more drop of her blood was added, the drop blooming out within the pale liquid. It was… beautiful in a morbid way.  


She tied the tooth to a string, dipping it into the paste. The string hung from the lip of the mortar, waiting for her needing it once again. Kane tensed her fist, taking deep breaths.  


_No more hesitation. The time is now._  


The enchantress drew out her soul, gazing at it quietly as it kept up its steady beat. It pulsed red, casting a crimson glow onto the glass and wood that surrounded it. She could see the LOVE clinging on it, but it shouldn’t matter… she made sure it wouldn’t matter.  


She tucked it into one of her hands, her other hand gripping the handle of a very… special blade. A blade of her own design, but one she never thought she’d ever use.  


“It’s only five seconds” she reminded herself. “It’ll heal. Just… five… seconds…”  


She dug the tip of the blade into the soul, dragging the enchanted metal through its body, cutting off a slice of her very essence.  


_This hurts._  


_Wow does this hurt._  


_Angel almighty this hurts._  


It felt like fire shot through every nerve in Kane’s body, like every inch of her skin was being pierced by a white hot poker, with the wounds then being soaked in lemon juice. Strength she did not know she possessed was summoned all to keep herself from passing out or stopping. Her whole body trembled, shaking like an autumn leaf caught in a raging storm as the blade finally made it out the other side.  


She took a huge gasp of air as the fire stopped, her lungs quaking with the effort as she struggled to open her eyes. Her soul was now in two pieces, the larger piece bleeding and trembling like a real pierced heart, while the smaller piece was already starting to show white cracks all over its surface.  


Quickly, she placed the larger half back into her chest, her body already trying to repair the damage. She guided the small pseudo soul into the waiting jar. It shook and gurgled in the liquid, cracks spreading to cover its surface. It quivered in the jar, trying to shatter, but unable as the tonic arounds it kept it healed just long enough for this to possibly work. It made distressed movements, violently jerking in random directions, trying to pulse, but every movement was a struggle.  


“Come on, come on” Kane begged. “Don’t shatter yet, you’re almost there!”  


She took the string, dangling the tonic soaked tooth over the mouth of the jar. Using delicate, but swift motions, scissors cut the bone free, letting it fall into the magic bath. Now all she could do was watch.  


Watch and hope.  


_Please… Please live…_  


The soul shard quickly enveloped the tooth, trembling at the effort. Kane watched as the bone dissolved into the fragment, adding to the mass forming within the jar. It sat there, a white lump, still trembling. It was covered in cracks, still threatening to shatter at any second.  


It twitched slightly, forcing itself into a familiar shape of a glowing heart, if a grossly misshapen one.  


Kane wanted to be hopeful, but she bit her tongue. Other experiments had gotten here… only to crumble into dust seconds later.  


“Please… please be okay, please little one.”  


As if it was listening to Kane’s gentle words, the soul fragment stopped struggling, if only for a second. It made a few attempts to beat like a proper soul, trying to jump start its own pulse. It pulsed, slowly at first before it gained more and more energy, each movement twitching and jerking it around. It’s efforts sped up faster and faster, shaking and shivering. Kane was almost sure it was going to rip itself apart before it halted all movement.  


The witch held her breath. It was either going to work, or it was going to crumble. Now or never. Now or never.  


She watched it as the fragment tipped upside down, filling in its misshapen form and cracks. It was still trembling, but it was alive and pulsing. A new monster soul now sat in that jar, glowing a pale white as it floated peacefully.  


Kane couldn’t help but laugh as tears pricked her eyes.  


“I-I-I… I did it! Dear Angel I did it! There we go! That’s a good, sweet soul…”  


Kane didn’t really know what the feeling that was bubbling up inside her was. Maybe it was relief? Happiness? Triumph? Maybe all of those emotions, or maybe none of them. She just knew, in her heart of hearts, that she’d done the right thing here.  


Now.  


All that needed to be done was to connect the soul to the new vessel. Which meant she needed a certain skeleton.  


She stumbled out of her lab, gesturing one of her minions over. “Y-You!” Her breath was still heaving at the ordeal.  


“Yes Mistress? Are you injured? Do you need assistance?”  


“No, just stop talking and listen. I need you to go find WingDings the skeleton, and bring it here to my lab, as soon as possible.”  


“Yes Mistress.”  


The skeleton turned on its heel, speeding off into the estate’s corridors in its search. Kane leaned herself against the doorway as she took the moment to catch her breath, rubbing the sweat from her forehead as she looked back at the tiny soul in the jar.  


She did it.  


She really did it.

*******************************

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Not gonna lie, I kinda dig this chapter. I used a lot of witchcraft and flower symbolism in this, with some magic ideas of my own.

**Author's Note:**

> Comments are my life blood, so feel free to tell me your thoughts!


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